You See, It All Started With the Economy
by OrangePlum
Summary: "What's this I hear you've been prostituting yourself, Alfred?" When a misunderstanding just gets that much more awkward. Onesided!Sealand/US, US/UK


Author's Notes: I think I like this pairing. It's kinda fun to write. I suppose this could be a continuation of "Honey, I May Have Shrunk England," what with the way Sealand is acting. If you need to read that story first, then go ahead. This one will be waiting for you when you get back. I just like writing Sealand with a crush/role model thing going on with America. :)

Oh, and by the way, if any of you get the chance to look at the bottom of my profile, I would appreciate it. I just need a few more and then I can remove it! Lol

Enjoy this short oneshot. Please excuse any mistakes. I'll edit it later.

* * *

America and Canada stared up at the little boy standing over them. Canada looked unsurely to his brother who simply continued to stare at the stubborn and very nervous looking child a few feet away. America rolled his lollypop around in his mouth a moment before smiling.

"What'd you just say, kid?"

Sealand pursed his lips together and furrowed his brow, cheeks blossoming in his apprehension. Maybe he'd been stupid to think of such an idea to begin with. He dug around in his pockets before pulling out some bills; American dollars. It had taken him a long while to save up for this, and gosh darn it, he wasn't going to chicken out just because his heart felt like it was going to explode all over his ribcage.

"I'll give you twenty dollars to push me on a swing set after the meeting today." Oh yeah. You go Sealand. You're voice totally sounded as cool as it did in your ears to America. He didn't even pick up on the quiver in your voice or the shaking in your knees.

Canada's indigo eyes watched his brother for a reaction as he gripped his bear closer to his chest. What the heck?

America let the front legs of his chair 'clack' against the tiles below him as he removed his sucker. "Quit fooling around, kid. We're at a conference. We're not here to go on playgrounds and swing on swings."

Sealand frowned, having a feeling this would happen. "I know we're not, mister America. But…" Sealand puffed out his chest when he could see America's interest fading. Time to pull out the big guns. He thrust his arm into America's face, who nearly fell out of his chair in surprise. "But you need the money badly!"

America choked on his sucker. "Excuse me? Who told you that!" he burst, face heating up in mortification.

"W-well, no one told me, I guess…I saw it on the telly," Sealand explained, kicking his little sailor boot bashfully against the ground.

"Well the television lied."

Sealand blinked, perplexed. "But it said your economy is dreadful! Your people are in a tizzy about how to get more money. I saw China laughing at you. China was _laughing_, America." Sealand held up the twenty dollar bill in the embarrassed American's face. "Please, I want to help you."

"Kid," America whined, trying to shove back the money before anyone could catch a glimpse of this humiliating situation. Really. America had not sunken so low as to take charity money from children. He may almost be low enough to sit on street corners and play a guitar for cash, but not low enough to take money from children. No sir.

"You won't?" Sealand asked, disappointed.

America coiled back instinctively at the teary face of a child. Damn his heroic tendencies. He waved his arms in a panic, reassuring smile pulling at his face. "Look, it's not you. You're a cool guy, Seacrest–"

"Sealand."

"Sealand, yes yes. I just don't want a pity party, you know? Can't have people thinking I'm low on cash," America grinned, tussling Sealand's hair.

"But you are."

"But people don't need to know that."

"But they do," Sealand added, confused. What was America talking about?

America deadpanned with a frown. "You're talking yourself in circles here. Just keep the money and go buy a balloon or something."

Sealand's shoulders slumped as he pouted and nodded. Dejectedly, he withdrew himself from America's presence and began to walk away. He looked back over his shoulder and sniffed. "I just wanted to be a hero like you, even if it was just with something small."

America flinched before pausing. He violently dug his fingers into his hair before groaning and motioning for Sealand to come back. Damn his contagious wonderfulness. Sealand beamed and skipped back over to America, handing him the money. "I'll meet you outside when this meeting is over. Don't make me wait, okay?"

Sealand cheered and hugged America close before bounding away. Wow. Having a cute, angelic face really did come in handy.

America pushed the money into his pocket with a sigh, slumping back against his chair. "I'm too nice for my own good."

Canada crinkled his nose, leaning over to America's eyelevel. "Why wasn't I invited to your pity party?"

America shrieked, falling out of his chair as he gripped at his heart. "When did you get here?" he asked, eyes bugging out at the sighing Canadian above him.

"I was here the whole time, Alfred."

"Well don't do that. You're going to give someone a heart attack."

Canada rolled his eyes and rested his chin against his bear's head. "That's always the point."

* * *

What started out as a simple request to get pushed on the swings turned into many reoccurring instances throughout the conference. When Alfred had pushed Sealand on the swings, he felt a little happy himself to see the boy smiling so much. It wasn't a terrible experience because he loved kids, but when it was over with, that's what he thought it would be. Over.

And yet that night Sealand knocked on his hotel door with fifteen more dollars if he'd read him a story before bed. America begrudgingly agreed, only because he couldn't stand China laughing at him on national television, and sat down on the corner of Sealand's bed in his own room and began to read. Unfortunately, he only got halfway through Stephen King's "It" before he became jumpy and terrified. It didn't help much that Sealand kept kicking his feet under the sheets to make it look like something was crawling up under them.

With bubbles of laughter coming up from Sealand's throat, he pulled out twenty more dollars if America would sleep on the other end of his overly large king sized bed. America resisted, but Sealand could tell that he was greatful, definitely not wanting to make the track back to his own hotel room on the twelfth floor.

The next day came more instances which required America to eat lunch with Sealand, give him piggyback rides through the hallways, and even manage to wear matching outfits one day. Needless to say, Japan had been taking a plentiful amount of pictures that day.

By the third day, America had made almost two hundred dollars. He sat staring at the bills in front of him with a sense of perplexity. "When did I start getting so desperate for money?"

Canada hummed to himself, not really paying attention. "Since before I met you."

"You're so full of it, Mattie," America snorted, pocketing the money.

"I try."

"You know, it's not even about the money, really."

"I'm sure it's not."

"It_ isn't_." America pouted. "I just can't say no to kids. They always look at me like I'm such a fantastic guy."

Canada sighed and lolled his head to the side. "Doesn't everyone look at you like that?" he humored sarcastically.

"Of course. But kids are different. They have that face. The kind of face that a hero can't ignore. That, and damsels. Heroes were bred to take care of kids and dames." America grinned and leaned back in his chair, unaware of the figure making its way towards him. He put his arms behind his head and shut his eyes. "And so what if I'm always with that kid now. I get a bonus of getting paid to do it."

Just then his feet were abruptly knocked off the tabletop. America sputtered, his eyes darting up to a scowling face he was oh too familiar with. "What's up, England?"

The thin lipped Englishman placed his hand against the tabletop and leaned in deathly close to America, the blonde tensing with butterflies in his tummy at how close the angered Briton's face was. England breathed across his cheeks, words heavy and deadly serious. "What's this I hear you've been prostituting yourself, Alfred?"

It took just three seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

"WHAT?" America gaped at England, jaw dropping. "Who said that?"

England didn't even bat an eyelash. "Is this true?"

"Dude. Arthur, I don't even know what you're talking about. Who said I'm a whore? It was Spain, wasn't it? I knew it. He's going to hold that over my head forever, isn't he? That _one_ time–"

England's fingers gripped tightly at America's chin, bringing his line of vision back to him. Sharp green eyes regarded America carefully as he tilted America's face back and forth. "Answer my question, lad." Despite the anger in England's voice, there was a seriousness beneath it. There was no way in heaven nor hell that would stop him from interfering if America was selling himself off like a cheap clothing bin at a JC Penny clearance sell.

"No," America said, waving his arms to get away from England. He scrunched his face up with confusion, a smile pulling at his lips. "Why would you think I was a prostitute? I'm not that poor."

England slowly straightened himself out, hand running over the top of America's hair in a relieved sense of affection. "That's good then. Charming. Never mind, then. Just a bout of nonsense fluttering about."

America raised an eyebrow. "Nonsense from whose mouth?" Oh, he was going to go all Popeye on someone's face. He glared at Spain from across the room.

"Never mind that, I said. It doesn't mean a thing since it isn't true."

America narrowed his eyes suspiciously at England, opening his mouth, ready with a retort, when Sealand decided to make his entrance and pranced over to America. He grinned at the American with rosy cheeks and fished out some more money from his pockets.

"This is for last night. Sorry it took so long for me to get it."

England's eyes widened as he watched the transaction in front of him, before he slapped that back of America's head with all his might. America yelped, his hands flying up to grip the back of his head. Sealand gasped and stared at England in shock who was scowling once more at America.

"Englaaannd. Why would you do that?" America whined, looking up at the Briton who was livid once more. What happened to the gentle fingers against his scalp but a moment ago?

"You lied through your teeth, America. How could you do something so irresponsible? So…so…" He was at a loss for words.

"No, no!" Sealand exclaimed, arms coiling around England's arm to stop him and his stupid violent temper. "Don't hit him. This was for America for fixing my radio."

England paused. "Your what?"

"I helped him turn his alarm clock to a radio station," America explained, rubbing the back of his head and sitting up. England looked between the two before relaxing and having the decency to look somewhat apologetic.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me for a moment."

Sealand let go of England's arm before he nodded with a hesitant smile. How he was ever part of such a weird country was beyond him. Sealand turned to America with another large smile before clapping his fist into his palm and taking out more money. "Right. I forgot. This is for spending the night last night too."

"Arthuuuuur," America whined again as another loud smack bestowed the back of his head.

"Are you mad?" Sealand balked, jumping right back up to hold England's fist back.

"I knew the rumor mill was more trustworthy than you. Have you no morals?" England growled, feeling absolutely wound up. And here he thought America was worth gaining his respects among other things.

"We watched a scary movie!" Sealand and America exclaimed in unison.

"Is that what the children are calling it these days?"

"Like a scary movie with ghosts and dead things, Arthur," America explained, rolling his eyes. England paused once more before blinking down at the frowning child holding onto him. "Jeez, I think you dislodged something. I can hear it rolling around in my skull." America lolled his head back and forth with a wince.

"Are you absolutely sure you're not a floozy?" England asked cautiously. He didn't need another scare. If he had one more, he would surely have a heart attack.

"Pretty sure." America straightened his glasses and took the money from Sealand. "I've just been doing some things with the kid for a little extra cash. I don't know what sicko said I was throwin' my goods out. They'd have to be offering a lot for me to do that." England glared down at him making America smile nervously. "I mean, I love you," he appeased in a singsong voice.

"In any case, you shouldn't be taking money from children."

"I'm not a child," Sealand argued, stomping his foot against the ground. England raised an eyebrow. "Besides, America can do whatever he wants. It's a business deal between the two of us."

England flinched, narrowing his eyes. He didn't like the way Sealand was talking to him. He acted like there were some important secrets being shared between the two of them. America never kept secrets from him. Except when he hid that bottle of gasoline. And the fireworks he stowed away in the crawl space…And the mysterious explosion that made England have to remodel his kitchen.

But that was beside the point.

"He has a point, Arthur," America chimed in.

"Belt up," England snapped. "Aside from the fact that it's in no way presentable, it's irresponsible. You shouldn't have to buy time to spend with Alfred. I don't."

Sealand frowned. Was he rubbing something in his face? He dug out another dollar from his pocket and handed it to America. "To have lunch with me," he clarified. England balked. That was when he was supposed to spend time with America. He growled.

America grinned and fanned his face with the bill. "I don't know, Arthur. I think he's winning."

"There is no bloody way that I'm buying your time when I can easily get it for free–"

"Two dollars," Sealand smirked, handing off another bill to America making England bite his lip. With a great deal of reluctance, England growled and pulled out his wallet.

"Five dollars."

Sealand furrowed his brow, digging deeper into his pocket. "Ten."

England slammed a bill against the table. "Twenty."

"Thirty!"

"Fifty!"

America watched with wide eyes as England and smaller England began piling money in front of him. Daaaang. He should've thought of this before. His economy would've been _flowing_ way sooner!

"Five hundred dollars," England bit out lowly, eyes flashing defiantly against the child beside him. Sealand's eyes widened as he began to feel a little nervous. He fidgeted under the confident look he was receiving from England before he quickly scurried for the door.

"H-hold on. I can find more money! Just give me a minute!"

England and America watched as Sealand nervously left the room, most likely returning to his room to see if he still had any new bills to throw America's way. After a moment, America whistled impressively making England go rigid. "Damn, Arthur. You just paid five hundred dollars to eat a sandwich with me." He couldn't even keep the shock from his voice.

England turned to frown at him with red cheeks and ears, unsure of how to explain himself. He just got riled up in a battle over spending time with America with a _kid_. How humiliating.

America examined his money with a look of awe before grinning mischievously over it towards England. "Maybe Spain was right. Maybe I am a prostitute. I am selling my body to spend time with people, after all."

England opened his mouth, words ready to fall off his tongue in a retort when the playful wink America sent his way silenced him. "Maybe I wouldn't mind being a prostitute. Only if it was for you."

The Briton felt his face warm to impossible levels as he looked down at America with jelly legs. W-was he saying that–

"Get a room," Canada spoke up boredly.

America screamed with England as both fell to the ground, England, this time, clutching at his heart. America scurried over to the surprised Briton and gripped his shoulders, blue eyes darting to Canada.

"How long have you been there? Jeez, Mattie! I think you just gave him a heart attack!"

Canada sighed despairingly as America proceeded to call an ambulance and make a scene out of what was most likely nothing.

Every single time.


End file.
